


5 Times Jake Flinched From Terry (And One Time Terry Questioned It)

by theyre_called_my_sandals



Category: brooklyn 99
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, It was early o'clock in the morning when i wrote this, Jake Peralta Angst, What Was I Thinking?, concerned terry jeffords, flinching, idk don’t judge me, if you read very deep then possibly hints of past abuse, im sorry, just go with it, scared jake peralta, this makes very little sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-29 11:50:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17807462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyre_called_my_sandals/pseuds/theyre_called_my_sandals
Summary: does the title not say it all?





	1. High-Five

GENERAL POV

It was towards the end of one of the most glorious Thursday's of Jake's life, at least that's what Jake said as he danced around the 99th Precinct. Him and Terry had been working on a huge case for months, and they had finally cracked it. The case was at first glance a simple murder. Upon closer inspection, there were drugs involved; nothing out of the ordinary. But when the murder involved drugs, five rival gangs, several corrupt cops, the witness protection program, Rosa's cousin, the chief of the Fire Department, Nazi's, a child-slavery organization, and the local fro-yo place? It was truly a wonder that the case hadn't been given to the Major Crimes division.

It had taken Jake and Terry months to gather all the evidence and piece together the puzzle. And what a puzzle it was. They were both set to receive rewards for their work on what had to be the most complex case in years. It ended up being more than one case as more and more elements were continuously added. Despite years and years of experience, some of the things in this case managed to leave both of them horrified, and on more than a few nights Amy had found Jake throwing up in the bathroom at the thought of what had happened. It had been one of those cases that drove Jake crazy. He hadn't slept, barely ate, and put generally no effort into taking care of himself. Once all the case evidence had been released, the squad understood why Jake had lost it, as he often did. This wasn't him being emotional, it was truly a horrific case. The case was added to the list of reasons Jake should probably go to therapy (Rosa actually had a list in her desk of all the reasons. Everyone except Jake and Charles knew about it and continuously added to it as they found out more about him. It was a long list to say the least).

Terry had barely kept it together himself. He would be lying if he said his wife hadn't found him up at all hour of the night trying to figure something out or forget something else. Neither of the detectives wanted to remember much of what they had learned.

But that didn't matter at that moment. They had gotten everyone involved arrested. They had solid, undeniable proof on each and every one of the perps that had been involved, and were sure that justice would be brought to the victims. It was all okay now. Jake would pull himself together and they would all be fine. Half the evidence room was devoted to just that case, and the court hearing was sure to be a nightmare, but they were confident that they couldn't lose. They solved the puzzle, they answered the riddle, and had undeniable proof against everyone.

"Whoo! Let's go Terry! We just did that! That has just been done! Charles- hit it!" Jake called.

"Charles, do not hit it." Captain Holt attempted to gain control. Holt was really only doing this for appearance sake, he couldn't wait to see Jake dance again. Sure the boy was terrible, but he hadn't done anything like this in too long. Though he wouldn't admit it, he had been worried about the man he considered to be a son. Jake went off the rails often, but usually not for so long. It was good to see him happy again.

"I'm sorry Sir, but Jake asked me too," Charles said with a mixture of excitement and apology. Then he hit it. 'It' being the boombox with Jake and Charles's victory theme on it. Of course that isn't what played. One of Charles's weird classical country song came on.

"Really Charles?" Jake deadpanned, staring flatly at his best friend.

"Hey, this is classical Boyle family music, don't insult it. Us Boyle's had an excellent taste in-"

"Charles!"

"Right! Sorry Jake, one sec!" Charles quickly switched the disks and THEN he hit it for real. No one needs a graphic description of their victory dance. 

About five minutes later they were done. Everyone was glad. As wonderful as it was to see the burden off of Jake's shoulder's, their eyes were bleeding. The less details said the better.

"Alright Jake, we get it, it was a job well done, but could you please get off my desk?" Terry asked exasperatedly.

"Right, yeah, sorry Sarge. It's just- WOW! What a case!" Jake said, his sentences not fully sentences as he climbed off of the Sargent's desk.

"Yeah, no kidding. Terry needs to relax after that, get some yogurt and have some Terry Time," Terry sighed in content at the thought. "But really, good job out there man," Terry stuck his hand out for a high-five, which Jake ducked out of the way of. Terry furrowed his brow. Why had Jake done that? He had actually flinched away from Terry, one of his best friends. 

Jake quickly recovered and returned the high-five with a bright smile. Everyone decided it was just a fluke, and dismissed it as lack of sleep, a problem that would hopefully be fixed tonight, now that their case was done. Jake wasn't scared of Terry, he had no reason to be; they were best friends, Jake was his child's godfather for heaven's sake. It was just built up nerves and tiredness. Everything was fine now. Jake would be given a few easy cases and have time to recover.

Jake himself came to the same conclusion about his actions. Tired instinct. It would all be fine tomorrow, once he got some rest. The case was over and that was what mattered.

"Who's up for drinks later! I think this is worth celebrating!" Jake called out. Everyone responded enthusiastically, and that was the end of that. Drinks were a sure-fire cure all. They all had fun, and Jake and Terry were okay now. It was smooth sailing ahead from now on.


	2. Football

GENERAL POV

The whole precinct was pumped for the game. This was their chance to finally show the Fire-Department who was superior: a game of football in the park. It was perfect. Terry was basically a pro, heaven only knew was Rosa was capable of, apparently the Boyle's were extremely good at it (which everyone doubted, but who knew?), Gina could probably win it for them through sheer confidence, Holt was definitely a secret weapon, Amy always had a game-plan, and Jake surprisingly had a killer throw. Scully and Hitchcock wouldn't be taking part in this event.

They had been practicing for weeks and had several game-plans in place in case of different scenarios. It could be argued that they were taking this a little bit too seriously, but whoever argued that would be wrong. One can never be too serious when it came to putting the fire department in its place. Team 99 hadn't been able to see what competition they were up against, but how bad could it be? Sure the fire-department actually required its workers to be in great physical condition at all times, but the 99 wasn't in bad shape (Scully and Hitchcock being the exception) and they had skill they were sure the fire department couldn't match.

The team had been throwing a football around all day, testing each other's reflexes by throwing it at random times, and testing skill by seeing how far it could be thrown from and caught from. Jake won the far-throwing by a mile, but Rosa and Terry's reflexes were the best, with Amy's not far behind. Gina was alright with basic throwing and catching (though if you asked her she was the greatest one there). Charles was not as great as he claimed, to exactly no one's surprise. Holt was easily the best of them though. He could catch literally anything, and easily pushed his way through everyone with an amazing brute force. The team had good reason to be confident. 

Nothing exciting happened where the police would be concerned that day. Everyone mostly did paperwork, leaving the uniformed officers to deal with whatever small things came their way. By the end of the day they were all itching with anticipation. Some of them had soft bruises from where they failed to catch a ball, but otherwise they were in tip-top shape. No one could wait for their chance to finally show the fire-department who was boss. It was going to be one glorious day for the Ninety-Ninth Precinct, for the entire NYPD in fact.

They all arrived at the field early and began going through basic warm-ups.

"Hey Jake!" Terry called. Jake looked up to see Terry holding up a ball, ready to throw, and he groaned. They both knew Jake couldn't catch to save his life. 

"Please no Terry," Jake pleaded. It had no effect on Terry.

"You better think fast," the larger man taunted.

"I have cancer," Jake blurted out. "The only cure is for you to not throw that!'

"Then I hope you have health insurance."

"Okay, you know I don't, so low blow, and what would health insurance to for a disease that can't be cured? Only you can help me Terry, Please, don't throw-" Jake cut himself off once he saw Terry throw the ball. He ducked out of the way just in time, and the ball harmlessly glided through the air past him. Huh. He thought Terry had thrown it a lot harder than that. Oh well. 

Jake began making strangled choking noises and writhing on the ground. "Sarge! AHHH! I'm- the cancer! It's taking ovER!! SARGE I"M DYING AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! It's okay though, I forgive you Sarge. You've been a good friend. It's okay. Don't feel guilty for murdering your best friend, it's fine." And with that, Jake died. Or, he "died" rather. He was awoken by a swift but light kick to his side by Rosa. 

"Get up." She commanded simply.

"Rosa would it kill you to show a little compassion? I just died!" Jake protested. Rosa just glared at him till he stood up, fearing what would happen if he didn't. Terry was still thinking about how Jake had dodged the ball. He had had a look of pure panic for just a moment, as if he really thought Terry was going to kill him with the football. Terry cursed the look. If he hadn't seen it then he could wouldn't think twice about Jake jumping out of the way. But of course that wasn't the case. 

He wasn't given any more time to think about it, as the fire-department chose that time to show up.

"Wow, already crying on the ground and we haven't even started!" One of the firefighters mocked Jake, who glared at the new arrivals. Jake-glares were weird. They didn't really convey anger, the emotion glares were usually supposed to, but something else. No one could ever quite place their finger on it, but it made them feel as if he was only pretending to glare, not actually upset with the receiver. 

After countless more insults and taunts, the game was underway.

It was going really well. Holt, and Rosa acted as battering rams for Terry who would run to the end line and catch Jake's throw. Charles guarded Jake from attack, Amy acted as a middle man, taking up random jobs as needed, and Gina did interpretive dances while pretending to help. It was going really well. By the time they got to what they marked as their halftime, the score was 24-8 with the 99 in the lead. Despite the fact that they had "epic skills and the power of Gina Linetti" they hadn't expected this to be so easy. The firefighters were terrible. The only reason thy scored those 8 points were that Charles got hurt and sat out for a few minutes, leaving Jake vulnerable. 

"Alright 99, I know we're winning, but do not get cocky," Captain Holt commanded. "I don't trust these firefighters, they're probably just pretending to be terrible so we'll let our guard down, the sneaky bastards."

"You are so right, Captain, we can't let our guards down. Those fire-freaks are out to get us," Amy jumped at the chance to agree.

"Um, guys, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?" Terry asked.

"No such thing Sarge. This is war, and not one we can't afford to lose,' Jake said, his voice rising with emotion throughout the short speech. It was odd how inspiring he could be if he tried. Amy ran them through all their strategies and plans once more before they headed back onto the field. To the surprise of everyone: Holt was semi-right. The fire fighters had stepped up their game. They were still terrible, but slightly less so than before. 

The end score of the game was 46-16 with the squad of the 99th precinct taking the win. There was no way the fire-department would ever be allowed to forget this spectacular failure. When the timer on Gina's phone that said they were done went off, the 99th precinct had a large group hug that everyone (even Rosa) was forced to take part in. As soon as they let go the taunts began.

"Whoo! In your ugly faces!" Terry whooped out in victory, spiking the ball. Jake, who was standing right near him, scrambled away from Terry faster than anyone had ever seen him move. Terry wasn't the only one who caught the flash of terror on Jake's face this time. No one commented on it, not wanting to ruin the good mood, but it was definitely noted by more than a few members of the precinct.

Only one member of the fire-department noticed, but decided not to make a comment. It seemed like too low of a blow, despite how great it would feel to get back at the police., who were mocking them relentlessly. The taunts eventually became too much, and the fire department left, promising to defeat them next time. 

"Yeah, right! That's just LOSER speak for 'I lost and need to go cry to my mommy!'" Jake called out as the last of the fire fighters left. 

Eventually Team 99 got tired of celebrating by themselves and the noise died out to everyone awkwardly standing there.

"Drinks?" Amy suggested.

"Drinks." Everyone confirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case no one noticed: I know exactly nothing about football. I probably should've chosen something i know how to play, but oh well. Too late now I guess. I hope you enjoyed this (if you didn't then sorry), I will try to update it soon!


	3. The Gym

GENERAL POV

Jake and Terry were assigned another case together. Normally Jake would be ecstatic about this, but of course these weren't normal circumstances. The case they were working was a drug bust; they had a tip that a local gym was actually a front for the local gang responsible for an increase in cocaine use in the city. Jake hated the gym as it was, but going with Terry always made him feel bad about himself. Not to mention last time they had gone to the gym for a case and Terry had beaten the crap out of him. Not exactly memories Jake was keen on reliving. 

Terry was also dreading this case. Jake had been acting off around him lately, flinching if Terry so much has went near him, and somehow he doubted going to the gym would help with that. He still felt a little guilty about beating him so hard last time. At the time Terry had been having fun and assumed Jake was exaggerating his injuries, but now we wondered if he had never done that, would Jake seem so scared of him now? 

"Alright Sarge, you excited to get our flex on tonight?" Jake asked, flexing his (imaginary) muscles. Terry rolled his eyes.

"Once you got something to flex maybe," he muttered in response. 

"Alright, first of all: rude. Second of all: I'm starting to regret the matching T-Shirts I made us." He held up a bright yellow shirt with "FLEX BROS" printed in a bold blue above an image of a flexed bicep.

"Starting to?" Rosa asked, looking disdainfully at the shirt. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Meanies."

"I like them babe?" Amy offered hesitantly.

"Thanks Amy, at least I know i can count on someone not to betray me!" Jake yelled dramatically.

"I would never betray you Jake!" Charles defended. 

"Yes Charles! Together, with Amy, we will overthrow the haters!"

"Yeah!" Charles cheered enthusiastically. Most of everyone rolled their eyes affectionately, and got back to work. Though no one would say it for risk of getting in either of the two mean's heads, they were also worried about how this was going to turn out. No one was unaware of Jake's strange behavior towards Terry recently. Jake and Terry started discussing a plan for how they were going to infiltrate the gym. It took them about a half hour to finish their plan. A beat cop had told them that the cocaine was referred to as "sawdust" on the street, so they would go into the gym and see what they could overhear at first, and if nothing came up then they wouls start asking around and hinting that they needed some sawdust. 

The rest of the day passed by in a long boring blur of paperwork and solitaire for Jake. It passed by in a relaxing calm of paperwork and yogurt for Terry. They entered the gym late that night, and were met with a familiar sight that they definitely could've lived without. In the center of the gym was a boxing ring, where two men were beating the crap out of one another. Jake stopped flat in his tracks, sighing. 

"Come on Jake, lets go," Terry said, putting a hand on Jake's back to move him forwards. Jake jumped and quickly stumbled a few steps away from Terry, fear sparking up in his stomach. Jake was confused by the fear, but dismissed it as an instinctual dislike of being in a gym with Terry again. Maybe he'd add that to Rosa's list of reasons he should go to therapy. He pretended not to know about the list, mostly because he wanted to see what exactly they were planing on doing with it, but occasionally added things in, using his best handwriting so no one would notice that it was him. 

He turned back to Terry with mock pleading eyes, "do we have to?"

"Yes." Terry replied, eyes lighting up with excitement. His resentment towards having to be here with Jake was gone, replaced by the thrill of what he hoped would be a good workout. He motioned for Jake to follow him towards a couple of machines. One was a weight machine and the other was a rowing machine. Terry took the weight one and set the rowing one to the lowest setting for Jake.

"Please Sar- John," Jake stopped himself from calling Terry by his nickname. "I can handle a little rowing." And with that he turned it up to the highest setting. Terry watched him struggle on the first pull, but then settled into the motion with surprising skill. Terry was impressed. He turned away from Jake, and began prepping for his warm up. He put 450 pounds onto the bar he would be lifting, and began doing different motions of bringing it up and down. For his real workout (not the warm up) he usually lifted around 900 pounds, and if he was going for a challenge then he would go for 1300 pounds. 

By the end of the night, Terry felt energized from the workout, and Jake felt like all his limbs were turned to lead. They hadn't heard anything about cocaine or sawdust, which meant that they had to come back tomorrow and keep trying. Terry was ecstatic and Jake began wondering if he should fake sick. Of course he never would, he couldn't risk anyone getting hurt on account of his laziness, but anything seemed better than another workout. 

While on their way out, Terry clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder, in a wordless gesture of comfort and congratulations. Jake's whole body went rigid and Terry swore he could feel his pulse quicken. Terry was concerned, but shrugged it off and took his hand off of his younger friend. They said their farewells and went home for the night.

 

The next day Jake waddled into the precinct in unbelievable pain. He barely left his chair because of how bad it was. And another night of working out was waiting for him after work. Oh joy. Walking around the precinct was torture, he didn't want to think about what tonight was going to be like. 

The day passed, and Terry and Jake went home, promising to meet later at the gym. Upon arriving home Jake slowly changed into workout clothes, wincing as he had to flex some sore muscles. Terry, however, quickly changed. He was excited to have a excuse to go to the gym twice in a day (he also went every morning). Terry got there first and waited till Jake's car rolled into the parking lot. 

Jake got out of the car and got his workout bag. He sighed, waving at Terry as the two met to go into the gym. Terry had known that Jake was sore, but watching the smaller man now, Terry realized the extent of the soreness. Jake was wincing with every tiny step he took, and his posture was bent, as if it hurt to stand straight. He was barely standing, and didn't seem to be able to lift his arm more than a few inches. Terry decided that Jake was going to need some serious help if they were to continue with this case. 

That night actually wasn't terrible for Jake. Terry showed him how to stretch so he wouldn't be sore (though it may have been just a little bit too late). Terry helped him find a good starting weight to lift at, what exercises to avoid, and how to look like you're working hard when really you're stalling. Terry had been careful to avoid going too close to Jake at any point, so there were no mishaps. The next day Jake felt...good? He was still sore but a lot less, and he felt energized and happy. Maybe working out had it's positive affects, not that'd he'd ever admit it. 

The next three night at the gym passed by similarly. No mention of cocaine or sawdust, and Jake slowly got better and better at the whole 'exercise' thing. On the fourth day Jake was lifting and doing his very best to seem like a douche (his practice from when he was undercover was coming in handy), when a few guys came up to him. They held out a folded piece of paper. 

"Tomorrow at midnight, be there, and don't you tell nobody. 'Dis is exclusive, and there's gonna be some sawdust there if ya know what I mean." The guy raised his eyebrows at the end, with what he must've thought was a sly smirk. Jake took the paper and unfolded it. It was a flyer for a wresting match, set for tomorrow at midnight, just as the guy said. The guy also said there would be sawdust. 

"'ll be there, but I gotta ask a favor, what're the chances my buddy can come?" Jake jerked his thumb over at Terry, who was lifting a bit further down the row of machines. 

"What do you say boys?" The guy asked his friends. After a moment they nodded, and Jake was given a second flyer, presumably to give to Terry. "Now if you tell anyone else about this, you ain't gonna be alive much longer, you got that?" Jake nodded in response, before going back to his lifting as the guys walked away. Jake kept a blank face, but he was grinning ear to ear on the inside. Finally! A lead! 

In the parking lot, Jake handed Terry one of the flyers. "They said to be here tomorrow at midnight, and that there would be sawdust!" Jake said excitedly. Terry pumped his fist, ignoring Jake's slight jump, and they agreed that they'd see each other there. 

The next day, Saturday, passed by very slowly for the two men. Neither of them had anything to do besides wait for midnight, and both their wives were off doing whatever it was females did during their day. Early that morning, Jake and Terry had requested a stake-out crew to accompany them in case they found any drugs there. The crew wouldn't be at the gym, but patrolling near it, or staked out at a neighboring buildings. Terry had a button that, when pressed, would alert the whole crew to get to the gym ASAP. 

At 11:00 pm, Jake got ready, and at 11:45 pm, he left for the gym. This time he got there first, and waited in the car for Terry. When he got there, the two of them walked in, flashing their flyers at the people guarding the doors. Who knew thugs had such an exclusive guest list? 

When they entered, Jake groaned. The main event for that night was clearly the boxing ring, and the absolute last thing he wanted to do was get beaten up by Terry. Again. He didn't have a choice though. Once you entered the door, everyone immediately went and signed up, so (not wanting to stick out, and not knowing if it were mandatory) Terry and Jake did the same thing, using their fake names to enter for a match against each other. Afterwords they split up. 

Jake hung out in the back, pretending to indulge himself in a few drinks. Eventually he found himself hanging out with a group of guys. They were all somewhat drunk, and Jake figured that he could get them to tell him something useful with enough coaxing. After establishing himself with a series of terribly offensive jokes and seemingly drunk laughter, he heard his and Terry's fake names called to go up next. Joy. 

He decided to complain to his new friends about going up against Terry. 

"Ugh, I am going to need to smoke something special to recover from the beating I'm getting next," he groaned. 

"Whatcha mean by that, pretty boy," one of the thugs slurred out, eyes half closed. 

"The guy I'm going up against has some serious muscle; I'll be lucky to make it out with both arms," he faked another swig of beer. 

"Just keep chugging, you won't even feel it," the guy said, patting Jake on the back. All too soon it was his turn to go up there. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, why did he agree to this? Jake was freaking out. He shakily climbed into the ring, memories of last time flooding his mind. Terry somehow didn't notice how terrified his friend was. When the match started, Terry instantly went to town, hitting on Jake mercilessly. Or, that's how it felt for Jake. Terry was holding back as much as he could while still making it believable. 

Terry was hoping Jake would just crumple to the ground, hoping he would give up and prevent Terry from hurting him as much as possible. Unfortunately he didn't seem to be doing that. He landed a few blows on Terry, but none of them did anything to affect the muscular man. Terry's gloved fists rained down blow after low on his friend, and it wasn't until Terry heard a small _crack _that Jake finally fell onto the ground.__

__Terry put his foot on Jake's crumpled form and held it there until he was declared winner. He felt good for all of a second before guilt came crashing over him. Jake slowly peeled himself off the mat and limped out of the ring, and when Terry looked at his boxing gloves, he was sickened to see that there was blood on them. He thought he had been holding back, how did he hit Jake so hard that he drew blood?_ _

__Jake considered actually taking the beer his new friends offered him when he finally made it to them, but of course he couldn't drink on the job. What he desperately needed was to go home and sleep off whatever Terry had done to him._ _

__"Hey, Dan?" Jake looked up at the use of his fake name. "I think I've got a little something that might help. " The guy held out a small bag of cocaine. Jake grinned._ _

__"How much?"_ _

__"$50." Jake slipped him the money and quickly hid the drugs into his pocket, before erupting into a large, violent, and completely faked coughing fit. This alerted a nearby Terry that Jake had gotten what they had been looking for, and he pressed the button. In less than two minutes the whole building was filled with police and everyone who had attended the event was arrested._ _

__Jake and Terry stood in the parking lot and watched as the last of the police drove away, thugs in tow. The streetlights did little to illuminate the scene. There was an awkward silence until Jake decided they should get to the precinct so that they could identify the perps._ _

__When Jake got there he was given many concerned looks, enough that it started to grate on his nerves. He knew that he had gotten the crap beaten out of him, but did they have to stare? He quickly identified the group he had been hanging out with and the guy that had sold him the cocaine, which he had turned in to the evidence room. His part for the night was soon over, the paperwork set to be processed by morning._ _

__The hardest part was when Terry showed up a few minutes after he did. The man looked at Jake with terror for a split second, before deciding that Jake would go to the hospital. Of course Jake refused in favor of getting his work done, which annoyed Terry to no end, but when he had tried to pick Jake up to force him into going, Jake had fallen out of his chair in his scrambling effort to get away from the man he called his friend, so Terry let it be._ _

__The pair didn't get back to their respective homes till a little past 5:00 am, when both of them immediately crashed into their beds, not even changing first. The only difference was that one of them was woken up by the screaming of their very concerned Latina wife about an hour later. To put it simply, Jake went to the hospital after all._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sure do love seeing my writing get worse and worse throughout the chapter! Sorry for not updating this for like a month!! I got distracted and then forgot to save it so half this chapter got deleted and I just couldn't make myself care enough to rewrite it. In short, I was too busy and too lazy to update this but i finally did, so yay me i guess! Also can i just give a HUGE shout out to all of the people who are leaving kudos and positive comments on here! I know i haven't responded to any of them and I'm sorry but hank you all so so so much!!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a completely random thing that I dd at almost 1am, so don't judge. Inspired by the fact that I'm a sucker for angst and also Jake constantly flinches from or seems scared of Terry if you watch the show closely. So yeah. Enjoy, or don't. Idk its early o'clock in the morning so if it's trash I'm blaming it on something else.


End file.
